time lapse
by mikazukidreams
Summary: In sixty seconds, he'll finally wake up. [sequel to Sixty Seconds]


**Summary:** In sixty seconds, he'll finally wake up.

 _ **Standard disclaimer applies here**_

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 **Time Lapse**

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 _This is how you break._

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The smell of rot and metallic tinge blood fills his nostrils every time he takes a breath, and he restrains himself from throwing up. There is no light in the damp prison, only darkness— physical darkness that threatens to grab him by the throat and strangle him alive. In a way death would be a blessing, an escape from this horrid hell he'd condoned himself to.

This place is bad enough to kill him.

 _60…_

There's a faint creaking as a door in the distance opens, but the sound echoes and light pours in, just a spark— a bright flame— greeting him like an old friend. He craves for the warmth of a fierce flame to warm his cold exterior, but they'd left him with no such devices. The air is chilled; he finds himself curling into himself, pulling his cloak over his legs, tucking him head in.

Footsteps are heard lightly down the hallway, but he doesn't care. He is cold and he yearns for warmth.

The footsteps stop by his cell, but he doesn't bother looking up— _it's probably just another Konoha guard checking him up anyway_ — until a soft voice speaks out.

"Sasuke."

 _50…_

His dark eyes snap up and for once in his life he is relieved to see colour. Pale pink, bright green, soft white— they fill his vision, invading the darkness in which he'd been exposed to for so long. Sakura Haruno stands before him, a slight tremble in her voice, and he hates how out of place she looks. He hates, absolutely detests, the way she seems afraid.

"I brought you some food," she says, extending out a bag filled with food; delicious aromas of home cooked meals filled his nostrils and his stomach rumbles.

But how can he take it? How can he take this from her hands like he _deserves_ it, damn it! He doesn't understand why she is here, standing before him, and he doesn't understand why she still cares so much for him. He is a lost cause, someone who had caused her grief for years.

He is the one she needs to let go.

"I don't want it," he manages to snarl, but his heart longs for this little piece of the outside world she is offering him.

He hates the way she flinches, and how her emerald eyes seem to dull by his cruel rejection, but what can he do? She needs to get away from him; she needs to let go of him to be _happy._ He can't grant her the fairytale she deserves.

 _40…_

However, this is Sakura Haruno— the girl he almost had, the girl he can never _have_. She is as stubborn as always, and the coldness of his dismissal doesn't seem to faze her as much as it should.

His gut twists when he sees something glitter in her eyes— fresh tears, brimming and spilling down her perfect cheeks. Her voice is hoarse when she whispers her next words, a single demand that makes him hate himself all over again.

"Tell me _why_ you killed Naruto."

But how? How can he explain the darkness in his heart that compelled him to murder one of his closest friends? Naruto Uzumaki his closest friend, his brother; the one who risked his life to save him, only to be killed at the end.

He retaliates in the only way he knows how to anymore— through anger.

"I don't need to explain myself to you," he spats, and he hates the way she's looking at him. Her eyes are puffy and red and the slightest hint of betrayal— so brief, but impossible to miss— feels like an icepick in his chest.

 _30…_

He doesn't know if it's a relief when he sees anger replace the fear in her eyes, but somehow it makes him proud. Her back stiffens, her eyes cloud over, and he can see the faintest twitch of her clenched fist— she is furious, not only by the fact that he refuses to speak, but also for the condescending tone he'd been using with her. He knows that Sakura Haruno is brilliant, the brightest girl in the village and perhaps the entire country, but he is in no place to praise her. Praising her would mean trying to gain back her trust, and he clearly does not deserve such a luxury.

She doesn't hesitate to snap back, "I have the right to know. He was my best friend too, and I want you to tell me _why._ "

And taint her entire existence even more? And ruin her very being by exposing to her the boy she'd wasted her time loving? He was nothing close to the Prince Charming she earned. Nothing he did could redeem the horrors he'd put her through.

 _20…_

How do you make a beautiful, intelligent, incredibly stubborn girl forget about you? You break her, and hopes she never comes back.

Adrenaline is pumping through his veins when he erupts into a laugh— the sound of it is exactly what he wants her to hear— it's bitter, it's cruel, and it'll tear her apart.

He chooses his next words wisely, ignoring the whispers of _if you do this, you'll lose her forever,_ because forever isn't guaranteed for him, and forever with her isn't what he's earned.

"You're always in my fucking way. Why can't you back off? What part of that don't you understand?" his tone is merciless and he nearly cringes at his own voice, but he maintains neutrality, for her. He ignores the pain that's piercing through his chest and the hollowness of his body, because the magnitude of his lie will hit her soon and she will leave and never turn back, and it's for the best.

For her.

 _10…_

She doesn't disappoint.

Because she is Sakura Haruno, she doesn't go down without a fight. And in this way, it makes her stand out to him, this girl-that-could-have-been-his; he thinks to himself, _that's my girl,_ even though he has no right to want that. He knows she will speak something, something that will leave its mark on his skin, something that will carve into the poor excuse of a heart he has.

She is unleashed in her next flurry of words, "Okay. Okay, I'll stay out of your way. In fact, you'll never have to see me again. But let me tell you _this,_ Sasuke Uchiha— you know what your problem is? Your problem is that you're a selfish bastard who thinks he knows it all and can do everything and anything yourself. You're a loner who pushes people away because you're afraid of getting hurt. I'm fucking done with you. Goodbye, Sasuke." She sounds more confident than he's ever heard her in so long, and maybe it is now he realizes exactly what he's really losing.

She turns her heels and walks away, and he feels so much dread in his stomach and wonders if this is how she felt, watching him walk away so many years ago. The light and the warmth are slowly fading with each poised step she takes.

 _I'm fucking done with you._ Somehow, it hurts a lot more than it should. The finality of her words hit him hard, harder than anything in his pathetic life, and he nearly laughs at how one girl— and her curt, sharp words— can break him.

But it does, and for kami's sake does it ever _hurt._

And although he has no right to, although he doesn't deserve anything anymore, he can't help but to call out, in a meek voice, "Sakura. Sakura, wait."

He sees her halt, her figure wavering, and hopes she'll turn back. _Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me,_ he panics, but the words don't come. _Sakura, please. Please. Don't give up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Come back._

But she doesn't come back; she doesn't want to come back. His throat closes when he hears her soft voice whisper faintly out to him, "This is how you lose her," before the light fades and he's left all alone.

In an instant, his heart leaps to his throat and he's so afraid, more afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life, as the darkness envelopes him again. There's something feral in his body, in his eyes, all adrenaline and _fear,_ and he's never felt more alone.

Something primal rips from him. "Sakura," he chokes, _"_ Sakura! _Sakura! I'm sorry! I'm sorry,"_ he screams. His voice is cracked, and he feels himself splintering, crumbling, _shattering_ into a million pieces that can never be fixed. "Come back," he says, his voice hoarse. "Don't leave me, Sakura, please." There's something spilling down his filthy cheeks that he refuses to acknowledge as tears, and his throat bloody _hurts,_ and he feels life drain from his entire being.

She's gone.

He is Sasuke Uchiha and she is Sakura Haruno and he is _hers_ — completely, entirely, utterly _hers_ — but she is not his. She will _never_ be his. How can he be complete— how can he cope knowing that he'd chosen a life that stripped away his happiness and gave _her_ to someone else, someone more deserving? Without her, he cannot be Sasuke Uchiha. Without her, he is merely a fragment of the universe— nothing special, nothing worth loving or noticing. Without her, he is empty.

He knows that in those precious seconds— sixty, to be exact, because he values every second she's in his presence— he has finally, finally broken down.

 _This is how you break,_ his heart whispers, and his head agrees.

There's no need to count the time anymore.

 _ **Fin.**_

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 **note** : hey guys, it's been a while! Writer's block was pretty bad, but I think I might be slowly getting back in the game. Again, if you haven't read my note at the end of _Sixty Seconds,_ I'm not anti-SasuSaku. I just like to write angst sometimes lol. A few people PMed me about writing a sequel to _sixty seconds_ but in Sasuke's point of view, so here it is!

-A


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